After finishing the last subject of the policy examination, Su Cen handed in his paper early, as he usually did, and walked out of the examination cell. He bowed slightly to the Hanlin Scholar overseeing their section, straightened his back, and strode away.
This wasn’t the first time he had submitted his exam early. Over the past few days, Hanlin Scholar Zhang had taken note of him. While others took three days to complete their essays, Su Cen often finished within a single day. Scholar Zhang picked up the sealed exam paper and, upon glancing at it, couldn’t help but feel astonished. The writing flowed smoothly in beautiful regular script, with sharp, confident strokes—full of youthful spirit. When Scholar Zhang delved into the content, his hands trembled. The essay, spanning three pages, directly criticized the harmful effects of factional disputes within the court. It was a sharp, well-reasoned critique that far exceeded what one would expect from someone so young.
Every word and phrase seemed to reflect the style of that person.
Scholar Zhang quickly looked up, only to see Su Cen’s figure, head held high, weaving through the rows of examination cells and heading toward the exit. The sunlight of February cast a dazzling glow on his back, making it almost difficult to look directly at him. That unyielding silhouette gradually disappeared beyond the gate. Scholar Zhang lowered his head, pressing his fingers against his brow. A talent like this, unless deliberately suppressed, would surely become a sharp blade that could cut through the chaos in the court and bring forth clarity.
After leaving the examination hall, Su Cen looked around. The stall selling sweetwater was still there, and the weather was just right. Su Cen walked over, asked for a bowl of the sweetwater, and drank it in one go. He then asked for another bowl and sat down to drink it slowly.
The old man running the stall still remembered him. With business slow, he came over to chat, asking if Su Cen had submitted his exam early again.
Su Cen didn’t bother with false modesty and smiled slightly. “Today, I felt inspired, so I finished my answers and handed them in.”
“You young folks are really something,” the old man said with a laugh. “There was a young man who handed in his exam a day early just like you, about a dozen years ago. He’s now the Grand Chancellor. I reckon you’ll have a bright future too.”
Su Cen smiled, knowing the old man was referring to the current Right Chancellor, Liu Cheng, a pillar of the Empress Dowager’s faction. Liu Cheng was the top scorer in the imperial examination during the 22nd year of Yonglong, the last exam held during Emperor Taizong’s reign. However, Liu Cheng’s success was not something that could be easily replicated. During the Yonglong period, in the struggle between Prince Ning and the former emperor for the throne, Liu Cheng had managed to align himself with the winning side and rose rapidly under the former emperor’s patronage. In the eighth year of Tianshou, the former emperor suddenly passed away, leaving the six-year-old new emperor to ascend the throne. Prince Ning, who held military power, entered the court, and Liu Cheng then aligned himself with the Empress Dowager’s faction. Under the Empress Dowager’s guidance, he continued to rise, stepping on the backs of others to reach the pinnacle of power. By his early forties, he had already been ennobled and made Chancellor—a glory most could only dream of.
Now that the court’s situation had stabilized, with the two main factions maintaining a balance, it wouldn’t be so easy for anyone new to rise to prominence.
So, Su Cen merely smiled at the old man’s words. Besides, maneuvering between factions wasn’t his ambition; he’d rather be posted to a local position where he could do some real work for the common people.
“Your sweetwater stall has been here for quite some years, hasn’t it?” Su Cen asked.
“Indeed, more than ten years now,” the old man replied, squinting at the tightly closed gates of the examination hall. “I’ve seen many people like you enter those gates, and I’ve seen just as many leave—some filled with joy, others with tears in their eyes. There have been children as young as their teens, and old men nearing sixty. Many of them drank my sweetwater before heading in.”
Su Cen chuckled. “In that case, your sweetwater must be quite something. Since everyone who drinks it at least becomes a juren1Juren (举人) was a prestigious title in ancient China awarded to scholars who passed the provincial level of the Imperial Examination System (科举, kējǔ). Becoming a juren qualified a scholar to participate in the next level of examinations, the metropolitan examination (会试, huìshì), held in the capital. Success at this level could lead to participation in the final stage, the palace examination (殿试, diànshì), where the highest title of Jinshi (进士) could be achieved., why not change the name to Zhuangyuan2Zhuangyuan was the number one scholar out of all the candidates who took the palace examination. Sweetwater?”
The old man looked at the tattered flag fluttering above his stall, its characters faded by years of wind and rain. Though it couldn’t compare to the shiny new signs of other stalls, he still shook his head slowly and said, “One must never forget their roots…”
Five days later, the exam results were announced. Ah Fu struggled to push through the crowd, and although he couldn’t recognize all the characters, he remembered the “Su” character from the plaque at his master’s gate. He scanned the list of the 300 successful candidates from bottom to top, and the more he looked, the colder he felt. That morning, the second young master had risen as usual. Even he seemed slightly tense on this day when the results were to be posted, however, the young master appeared completely unconcerned, leisurely watering a few potted plants before settling down with a book to read contentedly. In the end, it was Ah Fu who couldn’t hold back and rushed to check the results.
Sure enough, the young master’s name wasn’t on the list.
Disheartened, Ah Fu was squeezed out of the crowd, already thinking about how to console his master. Suddenly, he saw a group of people on horseback approaching. Several guards cleared the crowd, and an official from the Honglu Temple affixed the final examination list to the bulletin board.
“Why is it so late this year?” someone whispered.
“It seems there was a dispute over the top scorer. Rumor has it that the Hanlin Academy and the Ministry of Rites almost came to blows over the candidate.”
“Which side won in the end?”
“I’m not sure who won, but it’s certain that the person on the list won.”
As soon as the Honglu Temple official and the guards withdrew, the crowd surged forward.
Someone in the middle shouted, “The top scorer is from Suzhou!”
“What’s his name?” someone outside the crowd called out.
“Su Cen! His name is Su Cen!” came the reply from within.
Ah Fu’s legs gave way, and he nearly collapsed to the ground.
He sprinted all the way back to the Su residence, burst through the door, and saw the young master still lying on the couch, holding a book in one hand and a piece of pastry in the other, crumbs all over his clothes—yet he seemed completely unaware.
Such nonchalance—it must be the demeanor of someone destined for greatness!
“You passed! Second Young Master, you passed!” Ah Fu exclaimed excitedly.
“Oh?” Su Cen raised an eyebrow. “The top scorer?”
Ah Fu was stunned. “Second Young Master, you already knew?”
Su Cen stood up and brushed the crumbs off his clothes. “My essay would either astonish the world or leave me without a burial place—there was no third option.”
“Top scorer in the provincial and metropolitan exams—Second Young Master, you’re incredible!” Ah Fu circled around him in excitement. He had always thought Su Cen was just another spoiled son of a wealthy family. Although he served him without slacking off, there was always a sense of something different in his heart. But after spending so much time with him, Ah Fu realized more and more that his young master wasn’t as frivolous as he seemed on the surface. His mind was sharp, his knowledge genuine, and Ah Fu found himself increasingly in awe, unable to express it any other way than repeatedly saying, “You’re amazing, truly amazing.”
“In a few days, it’ll be time for the palace examination. When you return with the top rank, and achieve success in all three exams, our Su family’s ancestors will surely be smiling down on us,” Ah Fu said, flitting from Su Cen’s left side to his right. “Taking the palace exam means you’ll see the emperor himself. When you become a high-ranking official, maybe I’ll even get to see the imperial city! Second Young Master, you’re truly amazing, truly amazing!”
“Ah Fu, Ah Fu,” Su Cen said, holding him down, as the man jumped around like a cricket, making Su Cen’s head spin. Su Cen grabbed a pastry from the table and shoved it into Ah Fu’s hand. “Here, have a pastry.”
“I don’t want it, Second Young Master,” Ah Fu replied enthusiastically, pushing it back. “You really are so—”
“I’m so amazing, I know,” Su Cen interrupted, taking back the pastry and biting into it, then frowning. “Actually, I don’t want to eat this either. I’d rather have a bowl of congee.”
Ah Fu had gone out early to check the results and hadn’t even cooked breakfast for him. Left with no other option, Su Cen had gone to the alley and bought a few brown sugar pastries. He hadn’t gotten to enjoy the sugar, and now the crumbs were all over the place.
Ah Fu froze, scratching his head sheepishly. “I’ll go make breakfast right now.”
Watching Ah Fu dash out excitedly again, Su Cen couldn’t help but sit down with a knowing smile. To say he wasn’t nervous would be a lie—he hadn’t slept well all night. His essay had been too extreme, likely offending some important people, who might use a small trick to keep him down. Old man Lin had once told him that he was too aggressive and didn’t know how to conceal his sharpness. At the time, Su Cen had dismissed the advice with a laugh, sarcastically retorting, “Teacher, you were so angry you resigned and returned home; what’s this compared to that?” He could only remember the teacher stroking his few strands of goatee and sighing, “The tree that stands out in the forest is the first to be blown down by the wind; the shore that juts out into the water will be battered by the waves; the person who stands out above others will be criticized. Don’t follow in my footsteps.”
Outwardly, Su Cen had been respectful, but inwardly he thought that if the tree fell because of the wind, it’s because the tree was brittle; if the water wears away the stone, it’s because the stone was weak. He believed in becoming strong through repeated trials, unafraid of wind, fire, thunder, or lightning.
So when he picked up his pen, he wrote exactly what was in his heart, without betraying his true feelings.
Now that he had made it onto the list, it meant there were still clear-headed people in the court. His long journey had not been in vain.
![Flying Dust [Fei Chen]](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/9k.png "Flying Dust [Fei Chen]")
